


The Little Things

by TheQueen



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Multi, POV Keith (Voltron), Post-Canon, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 21:42:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13598964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueen/pseuds/TheQueen
Summary: Allura, Keith, and Shiro present how to be happy after the war.A Commission





	The Little Things

It becomes routine to wake with a scream nestled in the back of his throat, clawing to get out and turning his voice hoarse when he finally beats it down. Most of the time he beats it down. At first it had been horrifying; he’d been hopeful that nightmares were something he’d been lucky enough to avoid. Now it is almost routine to find himself awake far to early at—he looks at the neon-red alarm clock bright against the otherwise dark, dark room—4:15am to an already empty  bed.

After he collects himself, he crawls into the shower to wash off the cold sweat drying his pajamas to his skin. Allura, forever favorable of efficiency, argued it was better for all of them to sleep naked and just wash the bedsheets.

“It’s more cost effective,” she’d reminded them when they’d finished off the laundry for the week, the only ones present in the otherwise busy laundromat. 

But Keith is partial to pajamas now that he has the luxury, enjoys the acts of getting ready to bed now that he doesn’t have to be efficient. Years later, he’s starting to understand Lance’s preference for “self care.”   
  
Usually, by the time he comes down, the others are already loitering around the kitchen with the coffee machine quietly humming in the background, chugging warm cup after warm cup of caffeine. Most of the time there is some low chatter; careful not to be too loud so as not to break the easy peace only found during the hours right before dawn.

This time the kitchen is unusually quiet as Shiro and Allura sit in communal silence at the kitchen counter. The coffee pot half-empty. 

“Enough for me?” Keith whispers. 

Allura nods, tracing one delicate finger around the edge of her cup as Shiro gets up to rinse his in the sink, the sound of water hitting ceramic and metal startling in the silence.

The anniversary is coming up.

Keith pours himself a mug. As he reaches for the fridge, Allura adds, “We’re out of milk.”

Keith shrugs and drinks it black. 

Shiro walks into the living room and turns on the television; a rerun of  _ The Amazing Race _ (a series they may or may not have become obsessed with) starting to play. The familiar intro music finally breaks the silence. As the jingle tapers off, Keith finds it easier to breath. 

“Pidge called me over tomorrow,” Allura says, looking up from her phone and setting it down on the counter. “Apparently Lance’s flight had to be delayed and he won’t be back for another week.”

Keith frowns before shrugging. Hopefully it wasn’t serious; Lance had always had a hard time leaving when he went to visit his family. “That means he’ll miss the pre-rehearsal.”

Allura nods. “Shiro suggested delaying it. Just by a day or so. Coran suggested we should just rehearse in the castle.” 

Keith wrinkles his nose. He hates rehearsals for coalition shows—even if they only have to do it once a year for the anniversary of the end of the war, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t hate it. “Okay,” he says, “whatever works.”

She nods mechanically and finishes the last of her cup before standing. Keith watches her toss her hair up in a bun, lose strands of hair falling onto her face and only emphasizing the dark splotchy bags under eyes. “I’m going to join Shiro on the sofa.”

Keith sets his half finished cup on the counter and follows her.

.

Keith wakes up for a second time that day to the sound of chatter from the kitchen. The clock reads 8:03 and Keith forces himself up. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Shiro calls, far too cheerful for a man who must have slept even less than Keith, but Keith had long learned to accept Shiro’s inhuman perfection. When Shiro leans down for a kiss, Keith is happy to drag him back down to the sofa until they’re wrapped around each other.

“Keith, don’t make Shiro late for work!” Allura calls before he hears the tell tale sound of metal hitting metal. “Also I made eggs.”

The first time Allura made eggs, it ended with three fireman standing outside their door and two very disgruntled neighbors attempting to soothe a newborn. Safe to say, Allura had gotten better in the last years. So, with great reluctance, Keith lets Shiro go before making his way to the kitchen, where Allura has set aside a plate with two sunny eggs (the edges only slightly crispy!) and two slices of toast. “When will you be back from work?”

“Late,” Shiro groans, grabbing his keys from the little bowl in the little hallway that separates the living room and kitchen. “It’s midterm season and everyone is helping to grade Jenny’s papers ever since she was put on bedrest.”

“Is the baby okay?” Allura asks.

Shiro shrugs but he’s frowning, deep wrinkles between his eyebrows.“I’m not close enough to ask.” It’s moments like these Keith is reminded they’re not that young 20 year olds anymore. He himself will be turning 28 soon. The thought fills him with dread.

“Well, tell her we wish her the best,” Allura says, before glancing at the clock. “You’re going to be late.”

Shiro groans, leans forward to steal a kiss or five while Keith finishes up his breakfast, and then he’s out the door and down the stairs. 

“One day he’s going to get there on time,” Keith jokes.

Allura laughs and swipes the last of his toast. “We can only hope.”

.

After that, it’s time to be adults. 

Grocery shopping is a mundane, bi-weekly task Keith admits he never thought he’d be forced to do regularly. First because he’d been young and living on a military base, and then later because he was a desert hermit content to live on gas station crap, and then even later he was hurtling through space fighting a war with far too many near death experiences to count. So it’s still somewhat a novelty to be pushing a grocery cart with that one squeaky wheel through colorful, brightly lit isles, arguing with his girlfriend over whether or not they should buy store brand or name brand cereal. 

“There is literally no difference,” Keith reminds her, throwing the off-brand crunchy oats into the cart. 

“I can taste the difference,” Allura huffs. 

Keith rolls his eyes, “It’s four bucks cheaper. Let’s splurge on an extra tin of coffee.”

It’s a justifiable compromise.

By the time they make it to the register, their cart is too full and Keith is already thinking about lunch. He has classes soon. Allura has taken the day off to do her own version of relaxing (which means taking slightly fewer phone calls and letting Hunk and Coran handle the coalition heads for more than two hours at a time  _ without _ asking for updates or trying to do everything herself because, Princess or not, Keith is pretty sure the only person with less patience for politics is himself) but he has a class to TA in two hours. 

He never thought he’d go back to school (to be fair he hadn’t planned for a lot of future things) but physics is something he finds fascinating enough to try for a PhD in it. It helps that he spent a couple of years learning how to break physics via Altean technology, and it’s fun helping his mentor prove the field wrong. 

They get lunch at the local deli. Allura’s favorite human food is bagels, but he’s sure it won’t last. Two months before it’d been pickles, and five before it had been chocolate. But for now it’s bagels, which means eating lox with extra capers while Allura makes her way through every variation of cream cheese and bagel topping known to man. Today she was trying sesame with veggie spread, which sounded as bland as it did healthy.

She spends half of her meal on her phone and (altean) tablet, eyes occasionally roaming out the window in thought. He doesn’t mind. Sometimes it’s good to just be alone with someone. Certainly, if he felt like saying something he knows Allura would stop and pay attention, but he doesn’t. Just like if she decided to say something, he would listen too.

It had taken a while for them to get there. Early on in their relationship, silences had felt like death sentences, spaces for awkwardness and doubt to fester. All of them so prone to internalizing that they’d nearly imploded before the fourth week. 

Three years later, they’re good. No… they’re better than good. They’re happy…

“What are you thinking about?” Allura asks.

Keith smiles. “Us.”

She laughs softly and rolls her eyes. But he can see the blush on her cheeks. “I always forget what a sap you are.”

“I can’t help it.” Keith grins and takes her hand to kiss her palm. Her blush gets darker. “Love you.”

“I love you, too,” she promises.

.

They split at a quarter past three. Allura goes to the library, and Keith to the university. As he walks, he pauses to send Shiro a photo of every dog he finds on his way and laughs at the increasing happy emojis Shiro sends in response. 

Keith:  _ How are classes? _

Shiro:  _ Good. Got the kids with a quiz so more grading. _

Shiro:  _ I wish high school teachers got TAs T.T _

Keith:  _ You know you could just not give them things you have to grade. _

Shiro:  _ I know! It’s worse because I do it to myself _

Keith does his best to keep his snickers quiet as Professor Buchner starts class. He turns back to his conversation with Hunk about when was the best time to stop by to try his daughter’s latest pastry creation. 

.

“Welcome home!” Shiro shouts as Keith lets the door slam behind him before toeing his shoes off and letting his backpack drop in the middle of the hallway. 

“Hey,” Keith calls back. “I didn’t know you’d be home so fast.”

“I managed to get away.” Shiro grins, setting the plates on the table. “I got take out.”

“Did you get Chinese?” Allura calls as she steps out of the bedroom, hair dripping wet from a shower. “Or Mexican?”

“The Amazing Wok. We had coupons.” Shiro grabs the plastic bags and sets them in the middle of the table.

Keith grabs a glass of water and takes a seat at the table. 

“So,” Allura starts, “You will not believe what happened today…”

Here and now, as Allura starts her breakdown about the current peace treaties Team Voltron was being called in to negotiate during the next coalition and Shiro cuts in with a question every now and then, Keith finds it hard to remember what his nightmares were about. Here, between the two people he loves more than anything else in the world, it’s hard to feel anything but content.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you purple-astronaut for your support! As always please let me know what you think!
> 
> And if you want to learn more about me check out my tumblr: [thequeen117.tumblr.com/](https://thequeen117.tumblr.com/)


End file.
